106: Chapter 16 Allied Forces Invade

1. The South Shakes

When the news of Taiyuan's fall reached the south, it was already late autumn.

Outside Jinling, plane tree leaves littered the ground, their golden blades swept up and dropped by the autumn wind like countless weary butterflies. Inside the city's teahouses and taverns, storytellers spoke with flying spittle, narrating "Li Ling's Three-Route Campaign Against Yan, the Jin Army's Overnight Collapse." The patrons listened in rapt fascination, erupting into cheers from time to time. No one noticed the few somber-faced, middle-aged men sitting in the corner; they exchanged looks and quietly got up to leave.

They were spies gathering intelligence for the southern warlords.

Within just three days, news of Warlord Yan Xishan's capture, the annihilation of the Jin Army's main force, and the fall of the entire Shanxi province spread throughout the Qingxia Kingdom. The remaining major warlords of the north—Cao Kun and Wu Peifu of the Zhili clique, Duan Qirui of the Anhui clique, and Zhang Zuolin of the northeast—all felt threatened. They began to reinforce their fortifications and stockpile provisions, preparing to face the impending storm.

And the reaction in the south was even more intense than in the north.

The southern warlords did not possess the military strength of the north, but they had an advantage the north lacked—the support of the foreign powers. Great Britain had vast commercial interests in the Yangtze River basin, France had colonies in the southwest, and although Meijian Country was far across the ocean, they were equally unwilling to see a powerful, unified regime emerge in East Asia. Although these foreign powers had just suffered a major setback with the destruction of the United Fleet, they still possessed the ability to pull strings behind the scenes.

"Once Li Ling unifies the country, our interests in the Qingxia Kingdom will be completely wiped out," the British minister to the Qingxia Kingdom wrote in a telegram to London. "We must seize the opportunity while he is heading north to stir up trouble for him in the south and hold him back."

Thus, a large-scale collusion targeting Li Ling quietly unfolded across the southern provinces.

Zhao Hengti of Hunan Province, Wang Zhanyuan of Hubei Province, Chen Guangyuan of Jiangxi Province, Chen Jiongming of Guangdong Province, Governor Lu Rongting of Guangxi Province, Warlord Tang Jiyao of Yunnan, and Governor Liu Xianshi of Guizhou—representatives of over a dozen warlords, big and small, gathered in Hankou under the secret arrangements of the British to hold a clandestine meeting.

The venue for the meeting was a Western-style building in the British Concession of Hankou, heavily guarded by the British Marine Corps. This building was a property of the British firm, Jardine Matheson. While it appeared to be an ordinary office building from the outside, the interior was magnificently decorated, with mahogany furniture, Persian carpets, and crystal chandeliers exuding luxury at every turn.

The attendees each had their own agendas, but their goal was aligned—to prevent Li Ling from unifying the country.

"This man, Li Ling, is wildly ambitious. Once he unifies the north, we will be his next target," the representative of the Hunan Province warlord, Zhao Hengti, stood up and spoke passionately. "We cannot sit and wait for death. We must unite and stab him in the back while he is occupied in the north."

"Easier said than done," the representative of the Jiangxi Province warlord, Chen Guangyuan, sneered. "Li Ling has an Army of five hundred thousand. We don't even have three hundred thousand combined. How are we supposed to fight?"

"We have the support of the foreign powers," the representative of the Guangdong Province warlord, Chen Jiongming, pointed to several foreigners sitting silently in the corner. "Great Britain, France, and Meijian Country will all help us. Weapons, ammunition, even warships—whatever we need, we'll get."

"Then who will be the coalition leader?"

The air in the meeting room froze for a moment. Everyone wanted to be the leader, but no one possessed overwhelming strength.

"There is no need to argue, gentlemen." A middle-aged man with a mustache stood up. He wore a sharp suit and gold-rimmed glasses, looking like a businessman, but his eyes gleamed with a shrewd ruthleness. He was the representative of the British, surnamed He. Nominally a compradore for Jardine Matheson, he was actually the head of Great Britain's intelligence network in the south of the Qingxia Kingdom.

"Who becomes the leader is not important; what matters is who can win the war." Mr. He took a document out of his briefcase and spread it on the table. "We British are willing to provide support, but on one condition—the allied forces must be commanded by the most capable person."

"Who has the most strength?"

"General Zhao Hengti," Mr. He pushed up his glasses. "Hunan Province is located in the Central Plains, with abundant troops and excellent equipment. Furthermore, General Zhao has an old grudge against Li Ling and will never defect on the battlefield."

The others looked at each other. Although they were secretly resentful, they had to admit that Zhao Hengti was indeed the strongest among the southern warlords. He had eighty thousand troops of the Xiang Army under his command, equipped with rifles and artillery provided by the British, making their combat capability second to none among the southern forces.

"Very well, General Zhao it is." Everyone nodded one after another.

The meeting lasted for three days, finally resulting in a secret treaty: the warlords of fourteen southern provinces would form an allied force, electing Zhao Hengti as the commander-in-chief of the allied forces, with a total strength claimed to be three hundred thousand. Great Britain, France, and Meijian Country would provide weapons, ammunition, warships, and military advisors to jointly oppose Li Ling.

After the secret treaty was signed, the southern provinces began intensive preparations for war. Troop movements, grain collection, and weapon procurement were all carried out in secret. They thought they had done so flawlessly, completely unaware that a satellite overhead was coldly watching everything.

2. Under the Satellite

Inside the satellite receiving station outside Jinling, a giant electronic screen wall displayed real-time imagery of the entire Qingxia Kingdom.

Li Ling sat in front of the screen, holding a cup of tea that had already gone completely cold, staring unblinkingly at the satellite photos. On the photos, the troop movements of the southern provinces were clearly visible—Hunan's forces were gathering toward Hubei Province, Jiangxi's forces were moving toward the Anhui Province border, Guangdong's forces were en route north, and the forces of Guangxi, Yunnan, and Guizhou were also converging toward Hunan Province.

"These people are truly brainless," Li Ling put down his teacup and rubbed his sore eyes. "They thought they could hide this from me?"

"My Lord, the total strength of the allied forces is about two hundred and fifty thousand, though they claim three hundred thousand," Chen Zhiyuan stood aside, holding a detailed analytical report. "Their equipment consists mainly of obsolete rifles from Great Britain and France, with about three hundred artillery pieces, mostly old-fashioned field guns. Additionally, the British have provided over a dozen river gunboats deployed along the Yangtze River, preparing to cut off our water transport."

"Two hundred and fifty thousand," Li Ling sneered. "I only used two corps, sixty thousand men, to defeat Warlord Yan Xishan. Do they think two hundred and fifty thousand men can stop me?"

"My Lord, although the allied forces are poorly equipped, they are numerous and hold the geographical advantage," Chen Zhiyuan cautioned. "If we engage in a head-on clash, our casualties will be very high."

Li Ling did not speak. He stood up, walked to the large map on the wall, and circled several key positions where the allied forces were gathering with a red pen—Hankou, Jiujiang, Anqing, and Wuhu. These four cities were lined up along the Yangtze River like a string of beads, controlling the waterway traffic from upstream to downstream.

"What are they trying to do?" Li Ling pointed at the map. "Do they want to block us north of the Yangtze River?"

"Yes," Chen Zhiyuan nodded. "The allied forces' plan is to use the British river gunboats to establish a blockade on the Yangtze River, preventing our troops from heading south. Meanwhile, their Army will set up defenses on the southern bank of the Yangtze River, using the terrain to delay us step by step. If we launch a frontal assault, we will fall into a protracted war of attrition."

"A war of attrition?" Li Ling smiled. "They want to fight a war of attrition with me?"

He turned around, picked up the telephone on the desk, and dialed the Navy's channel. "It's me. Have the First Fleet dispatch a Cruiser squadron to standby at the mouth of the Yangtze River. Remember, do not enter the inland river; just wait in the open sea."

"Yes, sir!" came a crisp reply from the other end of the line.

Hanging up the phone, Li Ling then dialed the Air Force's channel. "Commander Zhao Peng, are your planes ready?"

"My Lord, all twelve planes are in perfect condition, and the pilots are ready to take off at any moment," Commander Zhao Peng's voice carried a hint of excitement.

"Good. In three days, I want to see your planes appearing in the skies over the Yangtze River. Your target: the British river gunboats. Tell your pilots not to be afraid; the anti-aircraft guns on those gunboats are just for show and cannot reach planes flying at an altitude of three thousand meters."

"Yes, sir!"

Having issued his orders, Li Ling walked back to the desk and picked up his teacup, only to find the tea was completely cold. He frowned, and just as he was about to call someone to change it, Empress Su Wanqing pushed open the door, carrying a pot of hot tea.

"Brother Ling, you forgot to change your tea again," Empress Su Wanqing gave him a reproachful look and poured him a cup of hot tea. "I've told you so many times, cold tea hurts the stomach."

Li Ling took the teacup and had a sip; the temperature was just right, and the fragrance was refreshing.

"Wanqing, why aren't you resting yet?"

"Waiting for you," Empress Su Wanqing sat down across from him. "You've been too tired lately, staying up late every day. Her Highness the Princess asked me to persuade you, saying that if you keep this up, your health will break down."

"It's fine, it will be over once the war is won," Li Ling smiled and rubbed his temples. "Those people in the south are getting restless; I have to keep an eye on them."

Seeing his exhausted look, Empress Su Wanqing felt a pang of sadness. She wanted to say something but held back. She knew she couldn't help much, and the only thing she could do was to avoid causing him any trouble.

"Brother Ling, I'll go cook a bowl of noodles for you," she stood up. "Get some rest early after you eat."

"Alright."

After Empress Su Wanqing left, Li Ling leaned against the back of his chair and closed his eyes. In his mind, the satellite-captured images flashed frame by frame like a movie; the enemy's deployment, troop strength, and equipment were all clear as day.

"System," he muttered in his mind, habitually wanting to communicate with the System.

After waiting for a moment, there was no response in his mind.

Li Ling was taken aback for a moment, then called out again, "System? Are you still there?"

There was still no response.

"Where did this guy run off to again?" Li Ling muttered. Since the last lottery draw, the System had become increasingly "lazy," often not showing its face for days, and he had no idea what it was busy with. Once, Li Ling couldn't help but ask, and the System had stammered, saying it had "found something fun," and then ignored him altogether.

Li Ling shook his head and stopped thinking about it. It was fine if the System wasn't around; it saved him from its constant complaints.

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the night. In the distance, the lights of the military camp flickered in the darkness like stars fallen to the earth.

"Allied forces," he murmured. "Come on then, you'll make perfect target practice."

3. Zhao Hengti's Ambition

Hankou, Zhao Hengti's temporary headquarters.

This was a three-story building situated on the banks of the Yangtze River. Standing on the third-floor balcony, one could overlook the entire river surface. Dressed in a British-style general's uniform with a gold-plated pistol tucked at his waist, Zhao Hengti stood on the balcony, watching the British gunboats on the river.

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

He is forty-five years old this year, with a burly physique, a square face, and a short beard, looking quite imposing.

Starting as a minor officer and clawing his way up for over twenty years, he finally attained his current status.

He believed he was inferior to no one, especially that Li Ling—a green kid in his early twenties who, relying on his family's wealth, had actually become the Regent, which made him feel extremely resentful.

"General, all the troops have arrived," the adjutant said, stepping forward and handing over a list. "Eighty thousand from the Hunan Army, fifty thousand from the Hubei Army, forty thousand from the Jiangxi Province Army, thirty thousand from the Guangdong Province Army, twenty thousand from the Guangxi Province Army, twenty thousand from the Dian Army, and ten thousand from the Guizhou Army. That totals two hundred and fifty thousand, with three hundred artillery pieces and various ammunition."

Zhao Hengti took the list, glanced at it, and nodded with satisfaction.

"What does Great Britain say?"

"They said that as long as we can hold Li Ling for three months, they will help us secure more aid. Additionally, they promised that if Li Ling is defeated, they will help us secure more territory."

"Three months," Zhao Hengti sneered. "We won't need three months; one month is enough. The main force of Li Ling is in the north, and his southern strength is less than one hundred thousand. We have two hundred and fifty thousand. Three against one—how could we possibly lose?"

"General, Li Ling's troops are well-equipped and have strong combat capabilities. Plus, he has aircraft and warships…"

"Aircraft? Warships?" Zhao Hengti waved his hand dismissively. "Can his warships sail into the Yangtze River? What can his aircraft bomb? They are just a few small planes; how much power can they have?"

The adjutant opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately swallowed his words.

Zhao Hengti turned around, walked into the room, and sat at the table. A large map was spread out on the table, marked with the troop deployments of both sides. He looked at it for a while, picked up a red pen, and drew several arrows on the map.

"Pass the order: the entire Army will launch an attack in three days. The first column will advance east along the north bank of the Yangtze River to attack Anqing; the second column will advance east along the south bank to attack Wuhu; the third column will serve as the general reserve and be stationed in Wuhan. With all three columns advancing simultaneously, let's see how Li Ling blocks us."

"Yes!" The adjutant acknowledged the order and left. Zhao Hengti leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and a smug smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

He was already imagining the scene after victory—Li Ling defeated, the north without a leader, and he would seize the opportunity to move north and unify the country in one stroke. By then, he would be the new master of Qingxia Kingdom.

However, what he did not know was that five hundred kilometers above his head in space, a satellite was coldly watching his every move. Every arrow he drew and every word he spoke was recorded by the satellite and transmitted to the command center of Li Ling.

## IV. Li Ling's Response

Jinling, the command center of Li Ling.

"Sir, the coalition's plan is clear." Chen Zhiyuan pointed to the satellite photos on the screen. "They are advancing in three columns, targeting Anqing and Wuhu. The vanguard has already begun assembling and is expected to depart in three days."

Li Ling stood before the screen, looking at the markers indicating enemy positions, and pondered for a moment.

"Advancing in three columns." He smiled. "Zhao Hengti does have some ideas. However, his ideas are too naive."

He turned around and walked over to the nautical chart.

"Pass the order: the 1st Brigade of the Marine Corps is to board ships immediately, sail south via the sea, land on the coast of Zhejiang, and then advance westward to cut off the coalition's retreat." He pointed to a location on the map. "The Air Force will sortie to bomb the Great Britain gunboats on the Yangtze River and blow their blockade to pieces. As for the Army…" He paused. "The Army is in no rush. Let them fight first, fight for a few days, consume their ammunition, and then we will make our move."

"Sir, wouldn't that be too risky?" the Chief of Staff asked worriedly. "What if the coalition really breaks through the Yangtze River defense line…"

"They won't break through." Li Ling shook his head. "Their equipment is too poor, and their logistics are even worse. Two hundred and fifty thousand men—how much food do they consume every day? Their supply line is on the Yangtze River. If we blow up the gunboats of Great Britain, their supplies will be cut off. By then, we won't even need to fight; they will fall into chaos on their own."

He paused and continued: "Moreover, I am not afraid of them attacking; I am only afraid of them retreating. If they retreat, I will have to take out their strongholds one by one, which is time-consuming and laborious. If they attack, it is the perfect opportunity to wipe them all out."

The staff officers nodded one after another, their eyes filled with admiration.

"The Sir is wise!" everyone said in unison.

Li Ling waved his hand, signaling them to go prepare.

The command center quieted down, leaving him alone. He walked to the window and looked at the night sky outside.

"System." He silently chanted in his heart.

Still no response.

"That guy, where on earth did it go?" Li Ling muttered. Last time, the system said it had "found something fun," and since then, it had been mysterious and refused to say anything more. Li Ling pressed it several times, but the system only said, "Don't worry about me, go play by yourself," and then disappeared.

Li Ling shook his head and stopped thinking about it. It was just as well that the system wasn't there; it saved him from its constant snarking.

He walked back to the table and continued to study the map.

Three days later, the coalition set out.

An Army of two hundred and fifty thousand, divided into three columns, marched eastward in a grand display. Infantry carried rifles, marching in neat formations along the official road; artillerymen dragged field guns, struggling forward on the muddy road; logistics troops drove horse-drawn carriages, transporting food and ammunition. The procession stretched for tens of miles, with dust flying and a grand momentum.

Zhao Hengti rode a tall white horse, walking at the very front of the procession. He wore a general's uniform, with a gold-plated pistol at his waist, followed by a squad of guards, looking imposing.

"General, the vanguard has reached the designated position, and no enemy troops have been found." The adjutant rode up to report.

"Not found?" Zhao Hengti frowned. "What trick is Li Ling playing?"

"Perhaps… he was intimidated by our momentum and dares not come out to fight."

Zhao Hengti thought about it and felt it made sense. Two hundred and fifty thousand troops—anyone would have to weigh that carefully.

"Pass the order: speed up. We must take Anqing within three days."

"Yes!"

The Army continued to advance, moving even faster.

But what Zhao Hengti did not know was that just above his head, a silver-white biplane was diving down from the clouds, its wing-mounted machine guns aimed at those Great Britain river gunboats on the Yangtze River.

## V. Air Strike

On the Yangtze River, twelve Great Britain river gunboats were lined up in a row, their black muzzles pointed at both banks.

Although these gunboats were not large, each with a displacement of only a few hundred tons, the caliber of the artillery they were equipped with was not small; the largest ones were even equipped with 120mm main guns. Their mission was to blockade the Yangtze River and cut off Li Ling's north-south traffic line. As long as any ship dared to pass on the Yangtze River, they would open fire and sink it.

"Sir, it's been three days, and we haven't even seen a single ship." A Great Britain sailor stood on the deck, yawning, and said to his companion beside him.

"Who cares." The companion leaned on the railing, a cigarette in his mouth. "It's better if they don't come; it saves trouble."

The sailor was about to say something when he suddenly heard a strange buzzing sound from above. He looked up and saw a silver-white object diving down from the clouds at an astonishing speed.

"What is that?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of bullets poured down like a rainstorm, hitting the deck and splashing wood chips. The sailor screamed and fell into a pool of blood.

"Air raid! Air raid!" A shrill alarm sounded on the gunboat.

Twelve biplanes dove from different directions, machine guns firing wildly. Bullets hit the hull, making a dense "da-da-da" sound. The Great Britain sailors scrambled for cover, some jumping into the river, some hiding in the cabins, and some even kneeling on the ground to pray.

"Fire back! Fire back!" The captain waved his pistol, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Several anti-aircraft guns began to fire back, but the muzzles were too slow and could not keep up with the speed of the planes at all. The shells exploded in the air, forming clusters of black smoke, but they didn't even touch the planes.

After a round of strafing, the planes pulled up their noses and climbed back to high altitude. They circled in the sky, adjusted their direction, and dove down again.

This time, they dropped bombs.

Fifty-kilogram aerial bombs fell from the bellies of the planes, whistling as they smashed into the gunboats on the river surface. Boom! Boom! Boom! Amidst the violent explosions, one gunboat was hit, a large hole was blown into the middle of its hull, and river water poured in frantically. The ammunition depot of another gunboat was ignited, the entire ship was blown into two halves and sank rapidly. Another gunboat was bombed until it lost power, drifting crookedly on the river surface, billowing with thick smoke.

Twelve planes took turns bombing; flames soared into the sky on the river, and explosions followed one after another. In less than an hour, eight of the twelve Great Britain gunboats were sunk, and four were severely damaged. The remaining ones fled desperately, heading towards Wuhan, without even the courage to look back.

"Withdraw!" Commander Zhao Peng ordered over the radio.

The twelve planes regrouped and flew northeast, disappearing into the clouds.

On the river, only burning wreckage and floating corpses remained. The river water was stained dark red, and the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and burning.

The news reached the coalition command center, where Zhao Hengti was eating dinner in his tent. Upon hearing the report, the chopsticks in his hand dropped to the ground, and his face turned as white as paper.

"What did you say? The Great Britain gunboats were all bombed?"

"Yes… yes, General," the adjutant said, stuttering. "Li Ling's planes bombed them. Twelve gunboats—eight sunk, four severely damaged. They have all lost their combat effectiveness."

Zhao Hengti stood there in a daze, unable to speak for a long while.

He had heard that Li Ling had aircraft, but he thought they were just a few little toys; he never expected them to have such great power. Twelve gunboats—gunboats of Great Britain, which had a century of naval history—were completely wiped out in less than an hour.

How could this war still be fought?

"General, shall we… continue to fight?" the adjutant asked cautiously.

Zhao Hengti took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"Fight! Why wouldn't we fight?" he gritted his teeth and said. "The gunboats are gone, but we still have the Army. Two hundred and fifty thousand men—even if everyone just spat once, we could drown Li Ling! Pass the order: the entire Army will continue to advance, and we must take Anqing within three days!"

"Yes!"

The adjutant acknowledged the order and left. Zhao Hengti sat back in his chair, his hands trembling slightly.

He talked tough, but his heart was already pounding. Aircraft are such terrifying things. If Li Ling used aircraft to bomb his troops, wouldn't his two hundred and fifty thousand-strong Army become sitting ducks?

But he had no way out.

The arrow was on the string; it had to be fired.